He's a Tramp
by Sword-of-Shadows
Summary: Alfred F. Jones has found himself in jail... Again... Because of the one and only Arthur Kirkland. A night with some unsavory cellmates might just do him some good, though, especially if they can open his eyes to his Brit's true character...


**A/N: **

Hey, wow, look how dead I've been... Sorry about that, guys, seriously...

And nope, I still haven't updated my other fic, but I just heard the song "He's a Tramp" by Peggy Lee (and in the movie Lady and the Tramp) and I just had to write this!

This was supposed to be a oneshot, but my wonderful Inglaterra (**Kaiya_Uchiha1014**) has agreed to cowrite this with me! ^^ This chapter is by me and chapter two will be written by her, so look forward to that!

**Disclaimer:** _Sword-of-Shadows does not and never will own Hetalia Axis Powers or "He's a Tramp" or Lady and the Tramp._

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><p>"I told you that man is bad news, Al!" Matt's disappointed voice filtered through the phone. "He's gotten you into so much shit-"<p>

"He's not that bad, Mattie!" Alfred sighed and leaned against the wall, looking at the plain room around him.

"Alfred F. Jones, you're in _jail_! What is this, the _fifth_ time now?" Matt shouted – his version of shouting. And sadly, the Canadian was right. Alfred looked over at the officer waiting for him to finish with the phone and sighed again. "Mattie, can we talk later, please? This really isn't the best time…"

Matt was silent for a moment. "Fine. But this is the _last_ time I'm bailing you out, got it?" Both of the brothers knew that he was lying.

"Sure, I get it," Alfred assured, but Matt had already hung up. Sighing, he hung the phone up and turned to the waiting police officer. "So… Same as last time?" he asked with a small smile.

"Not tonight, Mister Jones," The pretty female officer sighed, leading him to a cell. Really, she was getting tired of seeing the boy's face around the station. "You're going to be sharing a cell with a few other men, but don't worry, they're harmless, really."

"If they were 'harmless' they wouldn't be here," Alfred muttered; only slightly worried about sharing a cell with other prisoners. Usually, he got a cell to himself, seeing how he was always bailed out the next morning.

"You're harmless and you're here," The officer pointed out, opening a cell and ushering him in before locking it behind him. "Play nice now, got it boys?" she addressed the others in the cell.

"Well, look what we have here," a rough voice hissed out a laugh as Alfred turned around to look at his cellmates for the night. An albino man was pushing himself up from a leaning position on the far wall to get a closer look at the wheat-blonde boy. "An uptown beauty if I've ever seen one."

"And what the hell do _you_ know about beauty, fucker?" A second male voice, deeper and less hissing than the albino's growled from Alfred's right and a touch at the hem of his shirt made him whip around to smack the olive-toned hand of a short, scowling brunet away. A lone curl bounced underneath a black fedora as he talked "The cloth is soft; expensive. Maybe you're not too far off the mark, Potato."

'Potato' snickered and walked closer to Alfred, who stepped away only to find his back pressed against the cell bars. "Of course not, I'm awesome!"

"Yeah, yeah, keep fucking telling yourself that…" the brunet muttered. "So what are you in for _bella_?" he smirked seductively, making Alfred try and inch away again.

"Mon dieu, Gil, Lovino! Stop your bickering and step away from the boy, you're scaring him," a third man sighed and rolled himself off of the lower bunk of one of the two beds in the cell, saving Alfred from having to answer. Flipping shoulder-length blonde hair away from a porcelain-skinned face, he walked over to them, gently pushing the albino away.

"Psh, and _you _won't scare him, Rape-face?" Lovino scowled but backed off to watch from one of the top bunks, where a fourth man, brunet with emerald eyes that reminded Alfred of Arthur, lay on his stomach, kicking his legs in amusement.

The blonde sent Lovino a disapproving frown before turning back to Alfred. "I apologize for those two. They mean well, but they're both _horrible_ with new people-"

"Speak for the boy, Frannie!" Gilbert interrupted. "I'm too awesome not to be good with people-!

"Oh shut it, Potato-balls!" Lovino threw a shoe at the albino and the two went back to bickering, amusing the man, who had yet to speak, greatly.

Ignoring them, Francis sighed and took Alfred's hand in a friendly shake. "I am Francis, the two idiots over there are Lovino and Gilbert and the – for once – quiet man over with them is Antonio. Who might you be?"

"A-Alfred…" Al cursed the stutter. The officer said these men were harmless…

Francis smiled. "Ah, what a lovely name~" he said as he lead the uptown blonde over to the others. "So what are you here for, if you wouldn't mind us asking?"

"I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time," Alfred shrugged. No point in lying, really. "This is all Arthur's fault anyway-"

"Arthur?" Antonio finally spoke, leaning over the edge of the bunk bed to stare down at Alfred. "As in… Arthur _Kirkland_?"

Alfred looked up at him and nodded. "Yeah, you know him?"

Francis and Antonio looked at each other briefly before bursting out laughing. "Oh, we know that mutt alright!" Antonio giggled.

"Always slipping past the cops," Francis laughed. "Or charming the one's he can't get by."

"_Never _gets caught!" Antonio added.

"Oh I can agree to that…" Alfred huffed. It seemed that _he _was always taking the fall for the crafty Brit.

"But even the best have there weaknesses~" Gilbert snickered.

"Si, he finds a pretty pair of legs and that British whore is all over them like a dog on a fucking bone," Lovino huffed, adding his piece as Gilbert started barking.

"What a dog!" Francis snickered, practically doubling over in laughter.

"What a _dog_!" Antonio echoed, pushing himself from the bunk and leaving Lovino alone on the bed to stand next to Francis.

"He's a tramp, but they love him." Francis began explaining to a confused Alfred. "Breaks a new heart every day. He's a tramp; they _adore_ him!" He said in a disgusted tone before lowering his voice and murmuring "And I only hope he'll stay that way…"

"He's a tramp," Antonio joined in, and Gilbert whistled. "He's a scoundrel. He's a rounder. He's a cad." He seemed content with continuing his names, but stopped at Lovino's glare. "He's a tramp, but I love him!" he admitted and Lovino let out a strangled noise, causing Antonio to flinch "Yes, even I have got it pretty bad…"  
>"You can never tell when he'll show up," Francis wrapped an arm around Alfred and walked his fingers up his shoulder, making him shiver and flinch away.<p>

"He gives you plenty of trouble," Antonio warned, wagging a finger in the blonde's face.

"I guess he's just a no count pup," Francis shrugged with a sigh, flopping back onto the bed.

"But I wish that he were double," Antonio mused wistfully.  
>"He's a tramp!" Francis groaned. "He's a rover, and there's nothing more to say!" he watched as Antonio leaned over and continued talking anyway.<p>

"If he's a tramp, he's a good one. And I wish that I could travel his way~" Antonio smirked.

Alfred sat there, thinking over what the Spaniard and the Frenchman had said. "…You make Arthur sound like a… a…"

"A whore?" Lovino snorted.

"Yeah," Alfred nodded.

"Well it's true," Lovino shrugged. "Kirkland's a worse player than these three." Said three whined out a chorus of "We're not that bad!" and "Lovi, you're so mean!" which Lovino ignored.

"He's not like that at all!" Alfred defended the British man, but he couldn't ignore the little nagging twinge of doubt at his own words. Really, he didn't know much about the man at all! He refused to talk about his family, his past… his line of work, hell; even the way they _met_ was suspicious! The man was practically a full-out mystery to the young American; why was he bothering to defend him?

"Perhaps he's not bad _all _the time…" Antonio mused.

"But that's just part of his ruse," Francis frowned at Antonio before addressing Alfred. "Look, mon cher, don't get involved with Arthur," He rolled over on the bed to face away from the others, choosing the wall over their company. "It'll only end in heartbreak."

Gilbert made a noise of agreement before climbing to the bunk above the Frenchman. "That bratty whore will get bored with you eventually and move on to a new toy, just you wait."

"Give it a day, give it a week," Lovino huffed from the other top bunk. "It always happens eventually." He looked at Antonio briefly, almost troubled, before turning away from them.

Alfred also looked over at Antonio, who shrugged sadly and whispered the only piece of hopeful news into his ear "Although, maybe you'll be the one who forces him to change his ways? A tramp always finds his lady eventually, sí?" he moved away and began to climb into the bunk with Lovino, saying louder "You can use my bed for the night, chico. Buenas noches."

"Yeah… Night then…" Alfred murmured and lay down on the remaining bed to stare at the springs of the mattress above him. Arthur… Couldn't really be like that, could he?

He sighed and shook his head to clear it. No use thinking about it right now. As soon as Matt bailed him out in the morning, he'd find the Brit…

Or Arthur would find him, whether he wanted him to or not. Like all the other times.

As much as he hated to admit it, what his temporary cellmates had said sort of made sense…

He sighed. If it _was_ true, did he care? He still really liked Arthur, _right_? Of course he did!

Even if he _was_ a "tramp".

With that, Alfred let his eyes finally close and allowed sleep to wash over him, mumbling to himself, "If he's a tramp, he's a damn good one, and he better stay that way…"


End file.
